


Rest for This Night

by mer_maider



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Emperor Lotor (Voltron), F/M, First Love, Grief/Mourning, Lo'tar, Lotura - Freeform, Smut, ventor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 08:58:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17443829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mer_maider/pseuds/mer_maider
Summary: Allura hears a name she's never heard before out of Lotor's mouth at the worst possible time. He's tells her it was a mistake, but she flees his bedroom anyway, running from a name she doesn't know, one that could ruin her budding relationship with him. Dayak arrives, and Allura can't help but ask the old governess about the name. Who, exactly, is Ven'tar?





	Rest for This Night

**Author's Note:**

> The Ventor discord and I have been hard at work developing this wonderful ship. Special thanks to garbage_dono for the idea of this fic, and the entire discord for all the great headcanons.

“Go on.”

The steady thump of his heart knocked against her chest. He heard her voice, her sweet and gentle command, but he needed a moment before he would obey her. It was difficult to consider her urgings, not only in her two soft words but also in her insistent hands sliding up his bare back, the pressing squeeze of her thighs against his sides trying to coax him to move, to continue. To stop being so still.

Just a moment. He desperately needed it.

“Go on, Lotor. Please.”

He opened his eyes to look down at her, at Princess Allura who was waiting for him to pleasure her. Her hair was spread out on his pillows, her naked body lying in his bed, her cunt pulsing around his cock. In the darkness of the Emperor’s quarters of Central Command, he was buried deep inside the Altean princess for the first time. She was waiting, trying to be patient though she wasn’t doing a very good job prolonging that sweet patience. But she didn’t know.

Allura didn’t know how long it had been for him. She probably wouldn’t believe him even if he told her.

It was almost too much.

A leg wrapped around his waist, pressure on his side as she tried to scoot him a bit. “Would you like to switch positions?”

“No,” he answered quickly as he adjusted himself on top of her. The tightness of her around him was exhilarating, a warm and wet sensation he’d practically forgotten. He wanted to remember what it was like again. “I’m sorry. I’m not hurting you, am I?”

She smiled up at him and breathed out a laugh. “Not at all. I want you to start moving though, if you don’t mind.”

The beauty of her lured him in like a tempting song. Lotor leaned down to kiss her, her mouth eagerly opening against his and sighing as he started to move his hips underneath the thin blanket covering their lower halves. The pleasure of it all – the inside of her body, her delicious mouth, the biting of her nails on the backs of his shoulders – surged into him like a gust of great power with every gentle thrust. His heart galloped in his chest and his breath was shaky, his skin quivering on top of her every time he heard her moan or breathe out his name.

This was nice, he thought distantly, sliding an arm underneath her head so he could cradle it in the crook of his elbow, to pull her closer when he wanted her mouth again. Oh, this was _more_ than nice, especially when he released all lingering tension in his body and pressed her deeper in the bed with his weight, something she seemed to have been waiting for when she softly started to pant out of a lazy, appreciative smile.

“Lotor,” she breathed, spreading her knees wider, tangling her fingers in the long locks of his hair.

Actually fucking her properly now made it easy to remember, to know how far to pull back before sinking back in on a long and smooth glide that made her gasp, or the perfect amount of strength to use in his hips when he reached her limit that would make those lovely pink Altean marks illuminate all over her body for a quick tick in time. A gorgeous sight, a breathtaking image he would never forget. The pleasure she gave, the beauty of her, that soft blue light from the marks, it seeped into him, clouded his mind and made the universe stop for just a short moment.

No war, no duty, no Empire. No lives on the line.

Just her. The safe and pleasant inside of her, the lovely and admirable outside. Able to breathe steadily now, long and deep sighs against her glowing skin, Lotor let go of it all. His face sank into her neck as she held him close, his claws piercing the sheets within his fist. For the first time in a very long time, he _relaxed_.

“Lotor,” she said again, hands grasping the backs of his shoulders, feeling the muscle there and experiencing his strength with every thrust into her body.

There was nothing, _nothing_ outside this room. She cried out under him and he only pulled her closer against him until he could feel her heart thump against his own under her breasts. He was desperate to be consumed by her, his cock now aching to spill in her body, his eyes behind his closed lids yearning to see that soft blink of her glow with every thrust. The arm under her head cradled her, his other hand grabbing her thigh and holding it against his side. He wanted every single inch of him covered by her, feeling her, please, please take him away.

He was drifting away. It felt like bliss.

“Lotor,” she moaned.

So close, he was almost there. Her scent was in his brain, his skin marked by her grasping hands and shiny from her slick. He panted against her, mouth hanging open and fangs bared for flesh.

“Lotor!”

He could hear the excitement in her voice, the readiness to come. He could make her come, he _would_. He could remember this, what it used to be like. He could let go. For once in centuries he could let go… and he did, so completely.

Too completely.

And then he was lost.

“ _Ven’tar_ ,” he groaned against her.

Something suddenly screamed at him that he’d done something incredibly wrong, but it took him a moment to regather himself, to slow himself down from fucking her to both their climaxes. It was almost painful… but the scream wouldn’t stop. Something was wrong, so wrong because her legs and arms had gone loose around him instead of their tight and safe embrace. The bright blinking glow from her marks had ceased and trapped him in the dark. The atmosphere had completely changed, and he could barely breathe because of it. Like the cold and emptiness of space.

The knowledge rushed into him. Lotor stopped immediately and tensed up on top of her. Quickly, he moved his face from her neck and stared down at her with wide blue eyes.

Her own were pulsing in anger.

“What did you just say?” she hissed up at him.

It wasn’t really a question, they both knew it. What he’d said was unfamiliar to her, but it was clear that he’d been somewhere else. _With_ someone else, she corrected mentally. And from the terrified look on his face now, he had very much not misspoken. A name, she decided, though she couldn’t place the culture, the race. A name that was obviously not her own. One he knew, one he was remembering now. Someone else’s name.

Apparently someone else he’d rather be with.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her.

Allura groaned softly, moving so she could cover her face with her hands. Her marks were still gently pulsing with soft blue light – a response she didn’t care for at the moment – and a strange mixture of fury and mortification took hold.

With all the care he could muster, Lotor softly took her wrist to uncover her face. “Please listen to me. I misspoke.”

“Oh, did you?” she asked angrily, then set her hands on his chest and shoved. “Get off of me.”

Of course he relented, quick to give her space as he carefully slid out of her body and moved back. “I didn’t mean to say… It was a mistake.”

“Stop talking,” she snapped, frustratingly trying to untangle herself from the rumpled sheets of his bed. Lotor attempted to help but she only batted his hands away, focusing more on not allowing any part of him to touch her while also trying to get away from him. She miscalculated distance, and toppled off of the bed and hit the floor.

Lotor rushed to the edge to reach for her.

“No!” she barked, instantly shooting up to her feet and pointing one menacing finger at him. Allura glared at him, knowing she looked foolish and trying not to feel so horribly stupid as she stood there, hair mussed and body naked and absolutely humiliated.

Lotor looked the exact same way, but she couldn’t find any compassion for him in the midst of her fury and embarrassment.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t follow me.”

“Allura, _please_ ,” he pleaded, trying to respect her wishes and remaining in the bed, though he very much wanted to go after her. To explain. To…

His heart clenched painfully in his chest.

“ _Allura please_?” she repeated with disgust, snatching her blue robe from the floor and angrily shoving her arms through it. “ _Now_ you remember my name?”

“I swear to you on my life, I didn’t mean it. I…” His voice drowned out and his frown deepened.

“You what?” She set her fists on her hips after tying the robe closed to her collar, rescinding his right to see her body. “You were thinking of another woman while in bed with me? Am I so unappealing to you that you had to conjure up a face from your past to get through it?”

Her words cut him. He thought he could smell the blood from the wounds. “Never,” he pressed softly. He found he could barely speak, and knowing it made him feel all the more pathetic. All the more broken.

The glare she was desperately trying to cling to was steadily falling into a sad frown, but she fought it. “I thought you wanted me.”

“How could I not want you, Allura? You are all I think about.”

There it was again, the anger she needed that would give her strength to get through this. “Apparently not.”

A painful looking panic bloomed in his face, one she decided to ignore when she spun around and stomped right for the doors. Naked, Lotor scrambled out of the bed to follow her. Something stopped him in his tracks, froze him down to his bones. How did one go after a woman in the midst of a misunderstanding after she’d demanded he keep away from her?

Another thing he’d forgotten.

“Allura!” he called out to her, grief, sorrow, self-hatred snatching him right up. Again. “Please stay, please let me explain.”

“Fuck off!” she growled over her shoulder, a term she’d heard from the boys back on the Castleship. It seemed to pack a punch, a hard blow right to both of them, one that wounded him and fueled her. If only she could slam his doors in his face too.

She had to settle for the soft _whoosh_ behind her as she stormed off, leaving him all alone.

 

* * *

 

 

It was easy to forget the guards when she was this furious. Though Allura hadn’t been around such structure since she’d woken from stasis and found herself in a galactic war, it was also easy to revert back to a time when she lived in a palace with a hundred eyes watching attached to a hundred different people wandering about. What benefitted her was the fact that it was the night cycle, so the halls of Galra Central Command were darkened and many were asleep. At least the Paladins, and Coran, weren’t around to see her this way.

Only all of the Galra, she thought irritably, her brows in a constant furrow as she stormed in a direction that was a tad familiar. After so long of fighting Zarkon, sneaking onto his ships and possibly going hand to hand with some of these very guards, the Empire got to watch her bustle out of their Emperor’s personal chambers in nothing but a robe with faint marks darkening on her neck and her hair tousled from sex with said Emperor.

But she didn’t care, she reminded herself, chin up and shoulders back to keep what little dignity she had left. Let his people assume Lotor was terrible in bed. Let them feel her rage and know he’d displeased her in _some_ way. As soon as she could find a decent area to think and some clothes – she’d foolishly left her flight suit on Lotor’s floor in her hurry to get away – she would get back in Blue and go home. Her team wasn’t expecting her till morning, but she could sneak back in without them asking her any questions.

Earthlings just couldn’t _accept_ anything. They had to know _everything_.

Allura made a sharp left, practically threw herself into the next room and sighed in relief when she saw it was the kitchens. No one would be in here until it was time for breakfast to be made, and solitude was what she needed at the moment. A personal kitchen, she discovered after activating a soft light and studying the smaller size of it. One that was obviously meant only for the Emperor and his guests.

She knew she needed to calm down but Allura was finding it tremendously difficult. While seeking out the makings for some tea, she tried to unclench her jaw many times, to get her mind off of what had just occurred. As she kept her hands busy so they didn’t punch something or yank on her own messy hair in frustration, she found she couldn’t help it.

Damn man, stupid man, she thought, trying to breathe out a deep breath that only hitched in her throat. She’d thought she would never experience Altea’s magic again, but all that had changed when she started working alongside Lotor. She assumed them to be kindred spirits, minds so alike in their journey to bring peace to the universe and hopefully rebuild Altea somehow, someway. Their royal alliance was supposed to change everything, and it absolutely had. Not only were their goals the same, but she’d thought his interest in her had been the same as her interest in him. After all the pining looks, all the sweet and soft words, all the blasted _hand-holding_ , Lotor had finally kissed her, proving to her that she hadn’t been seeing things like a special light glowing between them.

And when he’d very politely asked her if she’d like to spend the night with him, she’d hastily agreed.

Only to discover that maybe he didn’t really want her at all in the same way she wanted him. Maybe all he wanted was a willing body in his bed so his heart could call out to someone else.

He sure hadn’t moaned _her_ name in the middle of passion.

Allura scoffed as she stirred her tea, her bottom falling into one of the stools at the bar. She concentrated instead on the warmth of the cup clutched in her hands, on the rising steam that carried the bitter odor of Galran tea that would no doubt keep her up all night if this incident wouldn’t already.

Another thing that was terribly easy was to be angry. If she was angry, then she couldn’t be sad. If she was angry, she didn’t have to feel disheartened that someone such as Lotor would have no true interest in her. She didn’t have to feel oddly insecure or betrayed or… maybe even a little jealous of a woman she didn’t know. She certainly didn’t have to feel so humiliated that Lotor had thought of someone else while nestled deep inside her own body. Much easier to be angry and storm off. Much easier not to be so… upset that his mind hadn’t been on her.

She’s said his name. Why couldn’t he have said hers?

With the tea going cold and untouched, Allura simply sat in silence and wallowed.

The anger rushed back when she heard the sound of the doors opening behind her. She turned sharply, eyes hot and ready to tell Lotor to go away, leave her alone, she didn’t care to be around him for the rest of the evening. Of course it would be him.

It wasn’t, and Allura’s glare quickly fell away.

It was replaced by an odd nervousness as Dayak sauntered into the kitchens. The old woman stopped and gave her a look.

“Well. Is that how you greet all visitors, Princess? That snarl is unbecoming.”

A light blush formed under her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I was…Um.”

“Expecting someone else? I pity them.” With her crop always in one hand, Dayak lifted the other wrist and checked a unit attached to her sleeve. “It’s awfully late. Have you lost your way, then?”

“No, I…” Allura looked around, spotted the useless cup still in hand. “I just wanted some tea.”

Dayak approached her, and her lack of making sound made Allura wonder if all governess’ learned their ways all together. It was a bit frightening, especially when she leaned over and sniffed at the cup. “A poor choice, really. This will not soothe you, if calm is what you desire.” As she spoke, Dayak reached for all the same makings Allura had earlier to prepare her own cup.

The princess lifted a brow. “You would make the same _poor choice_?”

“I’m not after a soother,” she countered over her shoulder. Dayak then dumped the cold contents of Allura’s cup and prepared new tea for her. She pushed the glass over with her sharp fingertips after it was ready. “That is the better choice for you tonight. Sip it slowly.”

It certainly smelled better. Feeling the urge to obey the Galra after giving her thanks, Allura lifted the cup to her mouth and blew on the steam. She then tensed when, instead of leaving with her tea as Allura hoped she would, Dayak lowered herself to the stool next to her. Allura clutched the cup in her hands, her mouth a straight line and her eyes flicking over to the old woman every now and then out of awkwardness. Could she tell that Allura was wearing nothing under the blue robe, not even a thin strip of underthings? She learned from Lotor that the Galra also had an incredible sense of smell. Could Dayak smell any… _emissions_ on her? Apparently, it wasn’t a surprising thing to her that the Altean Princess was still on Galra headquarters so deep into the night cycle.

Allura swallowed and gulped more tea nervously. Maybe she should just go.

“So,” Dayak began suddenly, causing Allura to jump and rattle her tea in the cup as the Galra set her own glass down delicately after a few relaxing sips. “Would you like to tell me what happened?”

Her face went pale and she held the cup awkwardly in front of herself, just staring at the old woman with blinking eyes. How more ridiculous could she be? “I’m sorry?”

Dayak simply set her folded hands on her lap, then turned her head to look at Allura. Her eyes were cold and searching. “I don’t have to worry about the Emperor being currently injured in his quarters, now do I?”

Allura practically sputtered. “No! Stars, no. Absolutely not, he’s… He’s fine.”

“Hmm.” She eyed the Princess, then turned back to her tea. “What has he done, then, to put you in such an irritable state?”

Feeling that irritation returning, Allura slumped in her seat and set an elbow on the counter, her chin on the heel of her hand as she stared down at the contents in her cup. “I don’t mean to be rude, but it is no one’s business but mine and his.”

“You think this whole situation going on now is a personal one? My dear, don’t be so foolish. Certainly your own governess taught you how to read a room? You’re a diplomat, for fury’s sake.”

Of course she’d been coached on how to read a room, the people in it. But her governess had also told her that it was a weakness of hers. She tended to jump to conclusions, allowing her heart to bulldoze all reason when emotion was great and all-consuming. “I’m only trying to drink some tea,” she muttered.

Dayak scoffed. “I may not know the _fine_ details, but I can see the rough draft of this story quite clearly.”

“Oh, can you?”

“I can. It is a simple observation. As soon as I walked into this room you were ready to lash out. That tells me you were anticipating the arrival of someone you are not too happy with at the moment, someone who could only be the Emperor, as he is not here sitting with you and the sole reason why you would be here on his ship in the first place. You are fresh out of bed. No shoes, no socks, _no clothes at all_ ,” she added with a hint of disapproval, causing Allura to slightly flinch. “And here you are alone, on an unfamiliar turf, drowning your obvious sorrows because you don’t want to be around him. There would be no other reason for you to be aboard this ship at such a time, in such _disarray,_ without Lotor if he was not the one you were irritated by. So I will ask you again. What has he done?”

What was irritating, Allura thought then, was the prying. Allowing the Galra to think whatever their imagination showed them was one thing. Having this woman flat out ask her was another. Allura decided not to answer. She didn’t yet have the words herself.

“Fine,” Dayak sighed, lifting her cup for another sip of tea and keeping her eyes straight ahead. “Don’t tell me, though I’m sure I could offer a solution.”

What solution a former governess to a grown man could give her for such a situation was beyond Allura, and one she didn’t think Dayak could actually have even if she knew. But what _was_ the solution? she wondered.

Maybe the solution was to just… leave.

“He hasn’t done anything inappropriate, has he?”

Allura’s head snapped in the old woman’s direction. She hadn’t liked what Lotor had done, but the implication was of a different caliber. “No. No, of _course_ not.”

Dayak lifted a shoulder. “A standard question, I suppose. I didn’t expect the alternative answer. I raised him well.”

_Raised him_. Allura mulled on those words as she tapped a fingertip to the glass of her cup, her head bowed. Lotor hadn’t had true parents, only a stern governess who had always been waiting for his grand rise to the throne. There were things she knew about Lotor that Allura didn’t know yet and would possibly never know. _Raised him from a boy to a man_. Those had been her very words. Coran knew every inch of her, every memory, every lesson she’d learned, every joy and heartbreak.

Perhaps Dayak knew the same of Lotor and could supply answers.

Before she could think the whole thing through, Allura found her mouth opening to ask the question she’d tried to ignore and forget.

“Who is Ven’tar?”

Silence, and the feel of it was different than simply sitting next to each other drinking tea. Allura wondered if maybe Dayak didn’t know the name at all, and was taking the time to recall it somewhere in that calculating brain of hers. But then Dayak cleared her throat, reached for a small napkin she’d placed on the counter beforehand and dabbed at the corners of her mouth. When she turned to Allura, her probing eyes drifted from her face down to the robe covering her naked body.

Those eyes flashed, and Dayak murmured, “Ah. I see. He hasn’t told you about her. I suppose he wouldn’t.”

Flustered now from the sudden and unwanted image of a mysterious woman somewhere out there possibly waiting for Lotor, Allura dropped the cup and smoothed her silver hair back, ready to yet against storm off. She couldn’t take more humiliation. It had been foolish of her to come here in the first place. “If you will excuse me—”

“Sit down, Princess, I am a teacher. If you ask me about Lady Ven’tar of planet Kompassia, then I shall educate you. Whatever is going on here,” she said, waving her hand about and gesturing more to Allura’s robe, “I’ve suddenly lost interest. You can keep that business to yourself.”

Allura blinked. Surely the woman could tell what was really going on. _Reading the room_ , as she recalled. Surely she knew it had something to do with Lotor and intimacy, which could explain her sudden refusal to get more information out of Allura.

Or maybe Dayak was trying to give Allura an excuse to listen to anything she would have to say.  

Allura felt a small flutter of gratitude as she eased back into the stool.

“I don’t know of that planet,” she murmured after a few ticks in silence.

“You wouldn’t,” Dayak replied, but didn’t elaborate. “When the Empire was rising to its grand heights after the disappearance of Voltron, there were two options for the worlds of this universe. Emperor Zarkon would have you submit and serve or refuse and be destroyed. There were times when it was a combination of the two, and even the meek felt the power of the Komar. Quintessence was needed. Zarkon demanded more, but the witch Haggar could only do so much for him at one time. Commanders and their underlings were spread out across the universe to conquer planets, to enslave their people and extract all quintessence in the name of Emperor Zarkon and the Galra Empire. Prince Lotor was chosen to land on Kompassia and do exactly that. He was given one deca-phoeb to make progress before Zarkon would follow up with his son himself. The Prince was very successful in his mining, but his methods of extracting that quintessence were ones Zarkon did not approve of.”

The words were familiar, and Allura drew her brows together as she pieced them all together. She was back on Oriande with Lotor. She could hear his voice in her head. “I know this story. The mining colony.”

Dayak’s brow quirked. So Lotor trusted her enough with half of the story. A very interesting thing. “Lotor and his team provided the Empire with some of the highest progressions of quintessence. If you looked at the numbers alone, he did a spectacular job. Zarkon left him alone for that deca-phoeb, pleased with his progress. But his systems were not those of the Galra, and it was discovered that Lotor had enslaved no one on this planet. He worked _with_ them, improved their lifestyle while also supplying the Empire, and submitted to _their_ customs instead of enforcing our own on them.”

“I know this story,” Allura reminded her.

“I understand that. What I tell you next is something only a very small handful of people in this entire universe know. And if it is going to hurt your _delicate feelings_ , Princess, then I suggest you just go on home.”

A weakness, Allura remember. Jumping to conclusions because of high emotion was a weakness, one she needed to rid herself of. It would make her a better diplomat, a better princess, a better paladin. Bracing herself, Allura told her, “Continue.”

Dayak then gave an irritated frown. Her face usually looked like it was in a constant state of displeasure, but this downward turn of her mouth was somehow different. She even slightly turned her head away from Allura to hide it.

Something sad then, Allura realized. Something that affected even a harsh Galra governess. She waited patiently.

“Lotor was foolish to entangle himself with the local population. That is _not_ the way of the Galra. He refused to remember everything I had taught him.”

Grief in her voice. Allura could hear it, and her heart softened a bit because of it. Dayak was trying hard to mask it, to cover it with disappointment and annoyance, but Allura couldn’t help but feel that it came with a very strange and special kind of troubling regret that if Lotor had only done what had been expected of him, then he could have been spared the end of this story.

“He grew close to the people during his time away from the Emperor. To one in particular. Only Lotor knows the absolute truth of what occurred there, but he worked closely with one of Kompassia’s trusted denizens to aide him. Because of the nature of their work, they were practically inseparable. When he would convene with the other Galra commanders by screen, there was a light in his eyes that I had never seen in him before. Even in his written reports, you could sense… _something_. Something brighter, something _other._ Something without burden or fear or anger, or loneliness. That planet changed him. He abandoned the ways of the Galra for a new way, a new path. One he was determined to keep traveling, and one he was convinced would change the Empire for the better. A peaceful path he had hoped he could remain on forever… with this woman.”

As Allura listened, she could see Lotor in her mind. Everything being said to her now was exactly what she’d been learning the son of Zarkon to be. Her heart, as it softened for Dayak, began to softly ache. It didn’t stop with those ill-fated last words. “A woman?” Allura asked in a soft whisper, though she knew the answer. She knew the name.

Dayak kept her eyes on the counter, on the crop resting next to her tea cup.

“Ven’tar,” she said to Allura. “Lotor’s first love.”

A first love. Everyone had one. Even she did, and those first bursts of great emotion unlike any other were ones that were never forgotten. They became scars over time, and they were always received differently. Good scars or bad scars, they were still there. Dayak set her shoulders back, then turned to look at her. It was the most vulnerable Allura had ever seen her.

“Do you remember your first love, Princess? Your first _true_ love, one that was incredibly genuine and returned? There are poets who are convinced we’re given many true loves. They make us better, and stronger, and wiser. It is very, very real. But there are times when those loves… are doomed.”

The ache in her heart squeezed. One big, tight pang.

“He… was in love with Ven’tar?”

The slightest of nods, and then her head turned away again. “And she felt the same for him. I suppose they couldn’t seem to help themselves. I hope you understand, Princess, that I feel like I am betraying my Blood Emperor by telling you of such things. I’m certain you would not appreciate that very loud and colorful man with the mustache speaking with Lotor in a similar manner.”

Allura winced a bit, sighed. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to pry, and you’re right.”

More silence, then Dayak lifted the crop and rolled it around between her fingertips. “He does not speak of Ven’tar. Everything I’ve told you is only what I’ve deduced myself with various evidence. I cannot give you more information than that, or what you already seem to know. But what I can give you is a lesson, and I want you to listen closely.”

She went still when Dayak turned to face her completely, wondered if she should detain the older woman when the end of the crop was set lightly on top of her shoulder. But when a blow didn’t come, when Dayak leaned a little closer, Allura could do nothing but obey the command to listen.

“You both may be royals, but you have _not_ lived the same life. What comes naturally to you is harder for him to understand, and it is the simple things, so simple and easily forgotten like boundless love and safety and serenity, that become very big and difficult to handle for someone like him. It is so incredibly easy to become overwhelmed and make mistakes when facing unknown things, even the good things. Good things like seeing that brightness in him again when he started working with an Altean princess.”

Another pang, another great throb in her chest. She knew good things, she knew brightness. She always had. A crown never meant good things and brightness were mandatory. Sometimes the crown was a curse.

And she’d only come to realize it after waking up with all she knew dead and gone.

“If he made a mistake, if he spoke her name around you, then you should know that he is agonizing over it. He does not speak of Ven’tar,” Dayak repeated, removing her crop from Allura’s shoulder with a quick swish. “He does not speak of his doomed first love.”

_Doomed_. The word rolled around in her brain, swimming inside it with everything else she’d heard tonight. The story he told her back on Oriande took hold of her again. And when paired with this new information…

Lingering anguish. It was right there, right on the surface, ready to sink inside her and swallow her up. Allura’s mouth opened, her eyes dimming with sorrow.

“He told me the mining colony was destroyed.” She’d thought she knew this story, but that wasn’t the truth at all. She only knew very, very little. “So that means…”

The truth was harsh, but it was something that could not be changed. Without feeling, Dayak plainly told her, “Ven’tar is dead.”  

Allura shook her head, not even sure why she was doing it. Even after all she’d been through with Zarkon, even going to bed every night with a hole in her heart caused by Altea’s destruction, the dead Emperor was still somehow hurting them all. “He killed her,” she whispered, the anguish only getting heavier. “Zarkon had to have known… how Lotor felt about her.”

“Don’t be _unwise_ , Princess,” Dayak said instantly, her eyes now icy. “Don’t be naïve.”

The meaning of those words was clear. It was very unwise indeed to think Zarkon would take such things into consideration. He deserved to die all over again, but Allura didn’t voice that particular desire.

Dayak then rose from her seat, smoothed down her dress. She kept her eyes away from Allura as she prepared to take her leave. “Zarkon may have been a monster, but he was a smart one who knew his child, and he spotted that romance quite instantaneously. I’ve always suspected there was… _more_ to Lotor and Ven’tar’s love. Whether that was a fleeting marriage or…” Dayak closed her mouth, set it firmly.

Allura didn’t want to hear the rest. Not because of jealously or anger, and even those unwanted emotions were fading quickly. That spoken _or_ could mean so much, tell so much.

She couldn’t bear it if there had been the beginnings of a family between them, even if it had never evolved passed a simple discussion.

“Not only did Zarkon kill Ven’tar, but he made Lotor watch. Her planet burned before his eyes until it was nothing but a lifeless husk ready for the weblum. Lotor was then banished from the Empire, given only his one empty ship. The next time he would see Zarkon would be after the reappearance of Voltron. At this point, you are up to speed.”

The servants would clear up their tea, Dayak decided as she made her way to the exit. Or the girl would, if she wanted to dally some more instead of making things right. It didn’t matter to her.

But Dayak knew great strength when she saw it. The right choice would be made.

“You were deep in stasis during the destruction of Altea,” Dayak reminded her, stopping only to toss her a quick glance over her shoulder. The girl’s head was bowed, her eyes full of sorrow. “I don’t say that insult you, of course. But for a moment, if you can, imagine watching it burn, and you aren’t given a choice to look away. Imagine your first true love is caught in the flames, with no way to save him. Could you live with yourself, Princess, if you believed it was all your fault?”

Of course she couldn’t, Allura knew. She could barely live with the death of her people now. But fate had found a way to give her all that she’d lost, though it would never be what she truly longed for. She still had Coran, her Castleship, her crown. She had a brand-new family in the paladins, and she knew there was love and comfort between them.

Sitting in this kitchen in only a robe, Allura realized Lotor barely had any of that. Her people, his people, they were all gone.

They should be together and continue the fight.

Allura lifted her eyes to Dayak just in time for the old woman to look away and face the doors, giving the princess her back.

“I have no right to say this,” Dayak began, and there was a long pause before she continued. “But you shouldn’t be too hard on him. Not for this, anyway.”

Without another word, another glance or even a swish of her crop, Dayak left the kitchens.

And inside Allura… that lingering anguish remained.

 

* * *

 

 

Perhaps maybe she had been too rash before, Allura decided as she made her way down the halls, back from where she’d stormed off not too long ago in a rage. Obviously she hadn’t known who this Ven’tar was and couldn’t be blamed for her response. How often did a man moan the name of his dead lover while in bed with his most recent one? A name he apparently never spoke of to anyone in thousands of years?

Allura stopped and winced a little as all her thoughts fluttered in her head like flies.

She’d most definitely been too rash, especially when she thought of Lotor’s panicked face as he tried to solve the problem and explain himself. But _what_ would he have said? _How_ could he explain in a satisfactory way? If no one knew of this woman save for the oldest people in Lotor’s life, then what explanation would he offer her? For all Allura knew, she wouldn’t have received the true explanation if it hadn’t been for Dayak, and they would be right where they were now. It was too frustrating to dwell on.

What would her mother tell her? Allura frowned and allowed the ever-present grief to move through her again. Her mother always knew what to say, to do, to offer. The Altean Queen had always had the answers.

_Lotor doesn’t speak of her._

As if her mother were standing right beside her and whispering in her ear, Allura heard the words clearly. If Lotor didn’t speak of Ven’tar but wanted to explain, then perhaps that should have been enough for Allura to give him a chance. It was perfectly rational for her to be upset by the whole situation…

But he deserved a chance. A dead first love, even one that had devastatingly perished thousands of years ago, was more than enough for a talk. If _Ven’tar_ had slipped out of Lotor’s mouth, a careful thing on his part, then Allura hearing it must mean he’d felt the same comfort with her he’d felt back then.

She didn’t have to like it, but they could talk about it. If he wanted to, she reminded herself. Allura felt in her heart that her mother would want her to give him the time to tell her anything he felt he needed to tell her, and for them to go from there.

Taking a deep breath outside the grand entrance to the Emperor’s private chambers, Allura let herself in with the code he’d given her.

There had been light before, when they’d been in bed. They’d wanted to see each other and had opted for lights on, but the large room was now dark and quiet and held a grim air to it. Their clothing was still on the floor, their boots kicked off across the room, and the bed was still messy with ropey sheets and the pillows caved in from the weight of her head. By all accounts, the lovely bedroom still _looked_ as if two lovers had had one pleasant evening. But the atmosphere was anything but pleasant.

Allura let out a long sigh.

One thing she couldn’t find, however, was Lotor.

Quietly, she peeked into his shiny bathing chambers, though no noise of a shower had emitted from it. One adjoining room left, and Allura decided that if he wasn’t in there, then she’d just take her leave and speak with him another time. Perhaps a quintant or two apart would make it easier for both of them, give them some breathing room to find the right words. Already it was seeming like the better idea to her. There had been enough humiliation felt tonight on both their parts. Allura stepped softly in her bare feet towards the Emperor’s office. No overhead lights were on in any of the rooms, but the closer she got, she spotted a very soft light coming from the workspace.

The screens, she discovered. The computer, the large one over his desk. It was turned on, the only light source. Standing off to the side – because she was feeling that unwanted embarrassment  and awkwardness rise within her chest again – Allura peeped around the corner to survey the area before she waltzed right on in.

She found him sitting at his desk, his hair still messy from her hands and his back still bare. His head was bowed, his forehead resting in the palm of his hand as he sat in the silence, the light from the big screen shining on his purple skin. She couldn’t see his face, only the back of him, but his body language alone was making that awkwardness she felt give one big throb. Of course she didn’t want him to be sad or linger in old grief all alone…

But it was hard. She’d never been called the wrong name in bed before.

She should just go. She should give them time. She didn’t think she could handle such a sticky conversation right now. Allura slowly eased away from the entrance to the office, leaned her back on the wall right outside it. She would very quietly gather her clothes and get back in Blue, head for home and her own bed.

And just as she was about to make a move to do exactly that, the room suddenly gave off a sound. Suddenly Allura was hearing a name, one that was very familiar to her.

Lotor’s name. It was Lotor’s name being spoken by a voice she didn’t know. A female voice, an alien tone. Something… long extinct.

“Lotor.”

The power, the emotion in a very unique voice and in one simple word, one short name, was unmistakable.

“Lotor, I’m sorry. I couldn’t get to you, the witch’s guards took you away. It was all so fast. I had no time… to say goodbye.”

Allura went very, very still. She even held her breath.

“I have to say goodbye to you now.”

Devastation, an incredible amount of it. Allura could hear it, knew it as well as the sound of the roars of the Lions. It was horrible to stand here and listen when he thought he was alone, and part of her didn’t want to hear it, she couldn’t bear more death and loss. But the voice seeped into her brain, attached itself there. A never-ending echo she would never be rid of.

Ven’tar, Allura knew. It was Ven’tar’s voice she was hearing. Ven’tar talking to Lotor.

Her last words.

And as if an invisible hand was guiding her for some unknown reason, Allura found herself peeking around the corner again to see a face long dead.

There she was on the screen, there was Ven’tar, only alive and well in an ancient recording that would replay the same words for as long as it existed. Allura’s wide eyes shined with the reflection of her, at the species she’d never seen before because Zarkon had destroyed them all. Ven’tar seemed to carry every shade of green, her eyes similar to the Galra but beaming in a bright red, long dark lashes fluttering over her lids. Beautiful eyes on a beautiful face, now so sad and defeated, and two antennae steadily drooping on her forehead in incredible mourning.

Mourning for her planet, her life, and her love that had never stood a chance.

“My one hope is that you are safe, wherever you are when this message finds you. I feel in my heart that you are, though you may not think so. I don’t know how much time I have to talk to you, but every moment I have left will be yours. All of me has always been yours, and it has been that way since I first saw you.”

Ven’tar stopped then, glanced about her surroundings at some unknown disturbance. Whatever she was using to record herself, she lifted it, carried it to a dark room with luscious plant life scaling the walls. Behind Ven’tar, Allura could spot the corner of a bed. At its foot were a pair of large boots that could only fit a large man. A bedroom, she figured. A shared one, with Galra-sized boots on the floor that were signs of a home.

Ven’tar focused on the camera again.

“This is _not_ your fault,” she continued, her eyes hard, her voice now stern. A voice like the fluttering of wings. “If you will heed my final request, it is that you will not take responsibility for your father’s actions. There is no blood on your hands, they are clean and perfect, and will go on to build and save and prosper. How many times have I told you that? When you feel that fear, I need you to remember my voice, and fight against it. You are not your father, Lotor. You never have been and you never will be. The man who is responsible for today is not the same man I fell for.”

On screen, Ven’tar’s chin trembled, her teeth catching her bottom lip to stop it.

“The one I love. I _love_ you, Lotor.”

From his seat, Lotor intently watched the video he’d watched a million times. He knew her last words by heart, could recite them instantly, but somehow hearing them each and every time felt like the first time. After he was exiled, Lotor had drifted in the emptiness of space in his dark and lonely ship for movements. Somewhere in that grim time of mourning, he’d found Ven’tar’s last message in his files, sent hastily in her last dobashes breathing. The first time he’d watched it, he broke down at this particular moment. He’d sobbed into his hands, fell onto the floor to continue until he’d passed out from crying.

Those movements all alone on his ship were spent sleeping and watching this video, time and time again. Just to hear her voice. Just to see her face.

Up until tonight, he hadn’t watched it in so long.

“It’s okay to be heartbroken, but only for a little while. Take the time you need, sleep, cry, remember me, reach for me if you must. Whatever will get you through this. But there must come a time when it ends. It _must_ end, Lotor. You must go on. I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t, if you submitted to grief. You cannot allow this to shape you. You were our hope, you are still mine, no matter where I go from here. There is no Voltron, there is no defender of innocents anymore. You are the only one who can stop Zarkon. This reality needs its great Altean defender,” she added with a slight smile. An inside joke of theirs. And perhaps it was a trick of his eyes, but he’d always sworn her gaze on the video fell to where she knew his glowing marks to be. She had been able to see them, miraculously.

“You will be fine,” Ven’tar whispered to him. So long ago, and she was still there. A dream, a vision, an angel. “You won’t believe me, but I know you will be all right. I wish I didn’t have to leave you,” she sighed, more to herself than to him, her head bowing as she took a moment to catch her breath. When she looked up at the camera again, at him, her gaze was more focused and controlled. “You are the best of this universe. And if this day was always destined, I am still so thankful to you for giving us time. We had more time because of you, Lotor. We can never repay you for that. When the screen goes black, don’t be afraid. I’m always with you.”

From the threshold, Allura kept her eyes on Ven’tar’s face as if the dead woman were speaking to her. Something in the background then caught her eye, though it was barely noticeable compared to the captivating woman speaking her final words. The large and long windows outside of the bedroom were steadily glowing red. As the ticks passed, it grew brighter, hotter. Ready to consume all. Death was what it was, Allura thought grimly. Ven’tar didn’t have much time.

And she knew it, Allura saw, her senses, her power, whatever it was Ven’tar’s kind possessed, she could feel it like an encompassing dark shadow. But she didn’t dare to turn around, to see the death coming for her. She was focused only on her mission to soothe the one that had been left behind from death and destruction.

The one Ven’tar would spend her last moments with through a screen.

A sudden change in Ven’tar’s expression then. A sudden bright light, one that illuminated in her eyes along with shiny tears, and a rueful smile spreading across her face.

“I want you to love again,” Ven’tar said, the two locking eyes in a impossible way, as if she knew where Lotor would be every time he watched. “I can’t be the one, the only. You are too good for one and only, and someday your heart will feel and fill.  I want you to be happy again, my glow bug. My pretty, pretty Prince.”

The devastating fire of death was increasing, but Ven’tar’s serene gaze was only for Lotor. No fear, no doubt, no regret.

“I will love you always.”

And then… the black of the screen.

Gone.

All was still, all was quiet, Allura barely breathing as she stared at the dark where Ven’tar’s face had been. Ticks going by in that stillness, that quiet, until someone moved. Lotor moved, only to place a hand over his eyes.

Allura moved away again, back against the wall outside the door to the office. Her chest heaved as the image of Ven’tar, her voice, her words, her great emotion, washed over her in a way it hadn’t when the video played on. That lingering anguish from before teetered, teasing the edge of the cliff as she fought to keep on solid ground instead of falling forever.

_I want you to love again_.

She couldn’t do it, and the anguish consumed her completely. As she suffered for a world, a woman she would never know, Allura remembered Dayak’s words, combining it with the presence of her mother she’d sworn she’d felt earlier. 

_Imagine watching Altea burn. Imagine your loved ones caught in the flames._

_Imagine you believed it was all your fault._

Allura was then awed by Lotor. She would never be able to survive watching Altea die with her own eyes. She knew she wouldn’t be able to go on, knowing her father, her mother, everyone she knew, was where she should be too. Waking up from stasis the way she had had been terrible enough, but she _understood_ that Altea’s destruction had not been her doing, and that she needed to stop the man who’d orchestrated it to save other worlds.

Whether he believed it now or not, Lotor had still suffered with the weight of a dead world sitting on his chest.

And she had cursed him for experiencing the love he’d once felt after so long of being alone.

A simple accident, Allura thought now, her eyes filling with tears. And her outburst had him feeling that weight again when she should’ve allowed him time to make it right. To remove that crushing heaviness so he could breathe again.

She could make things right too, and remove the weight from his chest.

Boldly, she stepped out into the doorway, swallowed. In this he’d been alone. No longer.

“Lotor,” she called out softly.

He jumped to his feet, faced her in only a long wrap tired around his waist, long locks of his white hair hanging over his shoulders. There was an old mourning in his shadowed eyes, in hers too, tears lingering in both waiting to fall. Hers did, sliding down her cheeks and dripping from her chin. His were more stubborn, remaining on his lids. Familiar tears, ones that knew the fate of Ven’tar and her people well.

They only stared at each other. The look on her face, the apology and sadness, told him that she’d heard the video recording, had watched it too behind him as he relived an entirely different life in a different time, what felt like a different reality. What she must think of him now, he couldn’t know. Perhaps this was truly the end for them, he mused woefully. Perhaps this new love was destined to crash and burn too.

He was already missing her.

It shocked him down to the bone when Allura suddenly surged forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him close and setting her wet cheek on his chest.

He couldn’t move.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, dampening his skin with her tears, her arms locked and never letting go. “For everything.”

Not the end. The realization came to him like the gust of wind, sudden and unseen as he stared blankly over her curly head, as he embraced the feel of her hold on him. He had prepared for her to be gone, for the discomfort moving forward in their attempts to bring peace. Lotor had even readied himself for her resentment, almost convinced that if she were to ask about the name, he would ultimately be unable to tell her. To show her the face of the woman who had been his only strength for so, so long.

Not the end, he thought again, finally lifting his arms around her. Perhaps there was still hope for them, after all.

Allura sniffed, drew away so she could caress his face in her hands and rub her thumbs over where she knew his markings to be. She pushed herself up on her toes so she could softly and sweetly kiss his mouth. “Please forgive me.”

Lotor’s shiny eyes stared deeply into hers. Eyes of Altea. A dead world, but there was still a chance here. He set his forehead on hers, heard her very soft sigh of relief. “If you will forgive me first, Princess.”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Great loss and a simple accident were so unalike. She would give it to him anyway. “There’s nothing to forgive. But I will. I do.”

He gave a soft smile as he stared at her mouth, their noses touching. “Well then,” he told her quietly as her arms wrapped around his neck. “I will. I do.”

_You are the best of this universe_.

Allura would never forget Ven’tar’s words. Words that were very true, words to remember. If a pretty planet and a compassionate woman had had any hand in helping shape the man with her now, then they deserved to never be forgotten. Allura would make sure of it.

“She would be so proud of you,” she told him, and placed a fingertip in the corner of his eye, wiped away budding tears there. Leaning back a little, she studied his face and grinned. “You look exhausted, my Emperor.”

He let out a deep breath as she pushed back some of his hair from his face. “I could use rest.”

Before they would return to bed, Allura gathered him close, as much as she could considering the height of him. Lotor set his chin on her shoulder, his hands practically fisting in the fabric of the robe she wore. Allura closed her eyes, concentrated on the thump on his heart against hers as they lingered in Ven’tar’s memory.

“She’s beautiful,” Allura murmured to him.

As he rubbed his cheek against Allura’s hair, Lotor’s eyes flicked up to the black screen. He could picture Ven’tar’s face as if she were still in the room, smell her scent, hear her voice in his head even without the recording. Perhaps one day, if they all survived, he would tell Allura more about her, about the only anchor that had kept him grounded as he fought to stand where he was now. But Allura’s embrace, her words, told him that he could keep Ven’tar for himself. She lived in him, she was part of him. Maybe one day in the future she could be part of Allura too. Just as Altea was part of him.

“She is,” Lotor agreed.

_I know you will be all right._

I am, I’m all right. Finally, after so long, he could answer Ven’tar. Hopefully, wherever she was, she could feel peace.

_I will love you always._

Always, he echoed, and followed Allura back to bed.

 

 


End file.
